


importance

by ladystark001



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tenderness, everything is okay though never fear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladystark001/pseuds/ladystark001
Summary: Sokka and Zuko have a conversation in the wake of an assassination attempt.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 846





	importance

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently I can only read so many zukka fics before I write my own, pls enjoy this little oneshot :)

For the first time in years, someone tried to kill Sokka today. 

He’d forgotten the adrenaline that accompanied someone rushing at you with a sword (and in this case—a  _ flaming _ sword). On one hand, he’s flattered that someone considered him important enough to kill. On the other… he is very much not a fan of the burns on his arms and hands, or the cut on his side. Stupid firebender assassin. 

There’s also the fact that his boyfriend is losing his goddamn mind. 

Sokka doesn’t blame him: Zuko had entered mid-assassination attempt, when Sokka had been curled on the ground. The pained howl Zuko had released would stay with Sokka longer than the physical wounds, along with the way Zuko had wrenched the assassin away from him—Sokka hasn’t seen him so angry in years. 

Post-attempt, the rest of the day passed in a blur: healers had treated Sokka, guards had dragged the assassin to the cells, and Zuko had become a wildfire in the name of finding out how an assassin got into the palace and all the way to Sokka. 

Now, Sokka is finally resting in their quarters, bathed, bandaged, and alive. He’s actively  _ not  _ thinking about the attempt on his life earlier. He wants to move on, please and thank you. He has almost achieved that whole  _ not thinking about it  _ thing when Zuko enters their quarters. 

Exhaustion rolls off Zuko in waves, Sokka notices. His shoulders hunch as he exhales and removes the uppermost layers of his fancy Fire Lord clothes, leaving him in black pants and a simple red tunic. 

“You look stressed,” Sokka quips from the bed. “Bad day?”

Zuko scowls. “Don’t even start with me.”

Sokka goes to stand, pressing his hand to his side when there’s a rush of pain. Zuko’s eyes widen.

“What are you  _ doing?”  _ he says, rushing to the bed. “You need to rest!”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Sokka replies, despite the fact that he feels like Appa trampled him, and then turned around to do it again—and that’s only physically. “I mean, the burns are nasty, but if the sword hadn’t been on fire, he probably would have had better luck.”

Sokka does not mention how he nearly pissed himself when he saw a random man walk into his study with a flaming sword. 

“I mean, the fire just cauterized the wound,” Sokka continues. “What an idiot. A  _ flaming  _ sword?”

He expects Zuko to laugh, or at least snap something grim and dramatic in return. Naked fear cracks across his face, though, before anger.

“Agni, Sokka, that’s not funny,” Zuko snaps. “You’re lucky he didn’t stab you.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what he said he wanted to do.” Sokka tries to keep his tone light.  _ Not thinking about this.  _ He doesn’t want Zuko worried about him. “Good thing I can fight.” 

Zuko presses his lips together, going pale, and begins to pace. Eventually, he takes down his topknot, his hair waterfalling over his shoulders. Sokka watches him walk back and forth, back and forth, until he can’t take it anymore. 

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Sokka says. “I’m  _ okay _ .” 

“Someone tried to kill you,” Zuko replies. 

“People try to kill you, like, all the time!” 

Zuko scowls and stops pacing. “I’m the Fire Lord and my father’s supporters are still out there. That’s to be expected.” 

“Well, I’m the Fire Lord’s boyfriend. I want a turn. I feel left out, you know?”

He wants Zuko to laugh. Instead, the color drains from his face, his scar stark red against pale skin.  _ Damn _ , Sokka thinks. He’s zero for two tonight. 

“I don’t like that you aren’t taking this seriously,” Zuko says. “Someone  _ tried to kill you _ . They almost succeeded. When I walked into that room…” 

Sokka remembers the sound that had torn from Zuko’s throat. 

“Your death has consequences,” Zuko continues. “Global consequences—”

“I think you’re exaggerating…”

“ _ Global  _ consequences, Sokka.” 

Here’s where Zuko becomes angry, Sokka thinks. This is where they fight. He really,  _ really  _ isn’t up for a fight, but he gears up for it anyways. 

Yet Zuko’s shoulders slump as he sits on the bed beside Sokka. “Your father is the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. You have strong ties to the Northern Water Tribe. Every noble in the Earth Kingdom loves you. The Kyoshi Warriors love you. Oh, and one of your best friends happens to be the Avatar, who your sister is  _ dating _ . You die in the Fire Nation? Everyone will have questions, and will want answers.”

Sokka feels stunned. “Zuko—”

“And me.” Zuko’s voice trembles. “Do you know what losing you would do to me? When I walked into the study and saw you on the ground, not moving…” He inhales sharply, running a hand through his loose hair. “I thought…”

“Zuko,” Sokka whispers, unable to say anything else. 

“You aren’t taking this seriously, Sokka. You’re injured. You’re  _ burned _ . 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Sokka insists. He’s only… not thinking about it. “See?” He stands to take off his shirt, but immediately winces. “Ow, ow,  _ ow _ .” 

“You idiot.” Zuko says that fondly, Sokka likes to think. 

“See?” Sokka spreads his hands out. “Just fine.”

“Your shirt’s still on. Take if off.”

“ _ Oooooo _ , okay, flirty.”

Zuko doesn’t take the bait. “Take off your shirt without wincing, and I’ll admit that everything is fine.”

Sokka reaches for the hem. It’s hard to wrap his hands around it with the burns, but he forces his fingers to curl. Right. Here goes nothing.

He tries to remove it, and the wound in his side screams. Sweat actually beads on his forehead, which is horribly embarrassing. 

“Happy?” he pants. 

“No.” Zuko steps toward him. “Not in the slightest.” 

“Figures.” Sokka screws his eyes shut and exhales. “I’m exhausted.”

“Sokka…” Zuko shakes his head. “Let me.”

With gentle hands, he removes Sokka’s shirt, leaving the bandages wound around Sokka’s torso exposed. For the first time that day, Sokka feels undeniably exhausted, perhaps because for the first time that day, he knows, undeniably, that he’s safe. He closes his eyes as Zuko brushes a stray strand of hair from Sokka’s forehead. 

“Let me help you,” Zuko murmurs. 

Sokka nods. 

Zuko guides Sokka to the chair before the vanity. He tugs Sokka’s hair from its messy wolftail, his hands lingering. Sokka leans into his touch, turning his lips into Zuko’s palm. He almost says something to make Zuko laugh, but looking at him in the low light, at the fragile nature of his expression, he quiets. 

Sokka feels a bit fragile, too, with Zuko brushing his hair like this.

“Want to know why I was so afraid?” Zuko whispers. “He pulled your hair down during the fight. I saw your hair down when I walked in.”

Despite the room’s warmth, a chill traverses Sokka’s spine. He remembers the would-be assassin’s words as he’d held a knife to Sokka’s throat and pulled his hair from its wolftail:  _ Who do you think you are, clinging to Water Tribe traditions?  _ he’d snapped.  _ You’re nothing but a pet to the Fire Lord.  _

Shit, he’s thinking about it, now. 

“The assassin got close enough to you _to pull your hair down_ ,” Zuko said. “When it’s up, I know you’re _Ambassador_ Sokka, but down… you’re _my_ Sokka.” 

Usually, Sokka would feel warmth upon hearing that, but the man’s words ring in his ears. “ _ Your  _ Sokka? Like I belong to you or something? I don’t.”

“Wait, what?” In the mirror, Sokka sees Zuko’s brow furrows. “Belong to me?”

“The assassin was under the impression that I’m your  _ pet _ .” 

Zuko’s creased brow is replaced by fury. 

Unable to look at his boyfriend, Sokka stares at himself in the mirror. It still feels surreal, sometimes, that he’s years removed from his fifteen-year-old self, the boy who traveled the world with his little sister and the Avatar, fighting to end a war he didn’t begin, when some of his same doubts persist. Doubt that he was important, in the face of his prodigy sister, the literal Avatar, and later, Toph and Zuko. Doubts that his plans would work. Doubts in himself. 

He’s frustrated with himself, that after all these years, the doubts are still here.

“Sokka.” Zuko moves between Sokka and the mirror, slotting himself between Sokka’’s knees.  “Please know…”

“I know,” Sokka whispers. 

“Listen to me. When I say  _ my  _ Sokka… I mean that I trust you to see me upset, or afraid, or sick. I trust you to sleep at my side—and I sleep better when I’m at your side. You’re the man I see at night.” He closes his eyes, and a tear slides over his cheek. “I came to see you by chance. I might have lost you today. You have to know how much you mean to me.” 

They don’t usually speak like this. They don’t have to—it’s understood. Tonight, though, they must think about it, Sokka sees. They must consider what they mean to each other, what might have been lost, what is gained, and what they still have. 

“I know,” Sokka whispers. 

“How important you are…” Zuko continues.

“How wonderful?” Sokka supplies, grinning. “How  _ handsome? _ How  _ brilliant?” _

“You’re stretching it.” 

Yet Zuko still smiles and guides Sokka toward the bed. He turns down the sheets. Sokka allows Zuko to help him into bed, and it’s revoltingly sweet, how considerate Zuko is about his wounds. They lay down together, curled against each other. 

"You have to care, is all I'm saying," Zuko whispers. "You have to understand."

"I do," Sokka says.

And he thinks he does. 

They pass a few minutes in silence, just existing with each other, before Zuko snorts. "A flaming sword. It really is ineffective."

“Right!” Sokka nudges Zuko’s calf with his foot. “Stupid assassin. No wonder I’m alive. Send someone more competent next time so it’ll be a fair fight.” 

For the first time that night, Zuko laughs, and Sokka knows everything will be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos give me life!! thank you so much for reading!!


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